


'78

by SLWalker



Series: The (Second) Book of James [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e13 The Song Remains the Same, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:59:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel reflects on the soul of his vessel, in two places at one time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'78

**Author's Note:**

> A snapshot from Cas's POV during a period covered in The (Second) Book of James.

Both Jimmys were asleep.

One slept in the space of their shared skull, warm and lost in pleasant dreams. One slept in a small fold-out bed in his grandmother’s mobile home in Florida, hair plastered to his forehead in the humidity, one small arm wrapped around a stuffed toy of a dog.

Castiel was not sure why he was here.

Some part was admittedly curiosity. He was stuck in ‘78 until they figured out how to return to their own time, and there was little for Castiel to do when Jimmy wasn’t awake to keep him company. He could not visit with his siblings, could not even really afford to be seen. He was limited on flight, weak and tired, and so on a whim he had searched for the light of Jimmy Novak’s soul, now in two places in one time; pressed close beside of him here, laying asleep there.

He had never given much thought before, to this bloodline. Knew only that they existed and that he was assigned to them. That they had been made for him. Now, moment by moment, from Jimmy’s yes, he found himself more and more bound to them, specifically _this one_ , this one whom he shared a form with, this one sleeping in the humidity and heat, under a blue moon.

"I am starting to wonder," he said softly, borrowed voice and not his own, "if it wasn’t the other way around."

It was unbearably sentimental, and he was glad that neither Jimmy was awake to hear it. Somehow, at the same time, it felt more right. If it was Dean who was good at making Castiel question his duties and loyalties, it was Jimmy who was good at making him question his sympathies and the heart behind his rebellion.

The smaller version of his vessel stirred, shifting and uncomfortable in the heat. Castiel had little he could do about it, but he looked around the small room, and then finally stood and made his way over to the window, puzzling over it for several long moments before he figured out how to turn the crank to open it, letting in some of the marginally cooler night air.

It was a small thing. Never enough, but something. Such was his relationship with the Novaks. With this Novak. Small things that could never undo what he had already done wrong, but something he could give anyway: His voice, to harmonize to Jimmy’s bright tenor, or a cooler breeze for a little boy who had no concept of what his future would bring.

Castiel watched for one moment more, regret and affection, equal measures; felt the soul of his vessel shift dreams to something wistful, longing, and understood too well both.

Such was his thought as he took wing: _Perhaps it was the other way, on who was made for whom._


End file.
